


Irrational Love

by CampionSayn



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Assuming some facts not in evidence, Boleskna, Fantasy AU, Hans Christian Anderson would consider this blasphemy but--mermaid THEMES, Multi, We all know Desna's never leaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None of them had voice to go back and forth between their separate worlds. There was distant eye contact, and there was life saving, curiosity and wishes to fulfill. Prince and princess and someone completely outside their world. Or, the fairy tale one-shot where we have the little mermaid plot played out by Eska, Desna and Bolin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irrational Love

-:-  
 _...a man who liked to hear me sing, but preferred to hear me talk._  
-Kissing the Witch.

* * *

  
  
  
Eska and Desna are not stupid. They are socially awkward and have a strained relationship with their father, and have difficulties taking notice when something is happening right in front of them sometimes, but they're _not_ stupid.  
  
But quite frankly, they _feel_ stupid when it takes something like twenty times seeing someone across the market place at the docks, smiling, making eye contact, not speaking but noticing that person, to actually get it into their heads that maybe they should try _talking_ to them.  
  
 _(The first time had been by accident. Their father hadn't expected a ship that had been lost months ago in a storm to actually come into dock and had sent them to welcome the crew in his stead as he was attending to his other kingly duties—seeing to some elected officials from across the continents that couldn't be left to their own devices and such—and they were available. Desna didn't much like going to greet sailors, but Eska thought it would be good to get out of the palace while summer was still about and she could walk around without having to wear her heavier coats and dresses._  
  
 _It had been as expected, she supposed, speaking in their usual way—detached--to men that thought that they'd never make it back home, tired and thin from eating nothing but hard-tack and what saltwater fish they could catch in nets that were half torn and worn. The captain had seemed almost insulted that their father hadn't come to welcome them himself, but Desna had not let the accusation of being forgone in favor of better things lift too high. A prince and princess were just as good as the head of the monarchy; their blood was just as steeped in tradition as his, and they would inherit the throne. What was there for the man to complain about?_  
  
 _She really wouldn't have even noticed the person of her nightly and steadily growing daily interest if she hadn't gotten bored with the man's chest puffing up indignantly and meandered away from him and Desna over to the dock's railing, where sea bleached brown metal cut off the possibility of falling into the water unless someone actually wanted to get wet._  
  
 _He'd been in a smaller row boat with a red and striped animal of which one didn't normally see in the North. The animal had a small pail dangling from its mouth and lifted it to his hands each time the man—young man, but older than her by a little, she thought, but could be mistaken as Desna had pointed out, “He's quite a bit bigger than the both of us. This seems to skew age range among the populace,” with ebony black hair and green eyes like some plants in the books she went over with Desna when they were little; Desna noting the color close to some apples that he loved better than candy and Eska thinking it more like moss she sometimes found outside her windowsill after the springs months that pelican-cranes snatched up for their dinner—brought a barnacle off the boat and dropped it in the pail with a little 'plink'._  
  
 _His hands were huge. His skin was a bright cream. There were little bumps raised along his skin that was apparent with his shirt folded up and sitting next to his boots in the far end of the boat._  
  
 _**'Not from around here,'** was the only thought that had crossed her mind when he'd seen her looking at him and gave a little smile and wave after coming out of being startled._  
  
 _She'd ignored the greeting as Desna had called for her that they were leaving now that welcoming the crew back was over._  
  
 _When they'd gotten back to the palace, Desna had remarked that she might want to wash her hands; dust and grime had stuck to her palms from the dock railing. Which seemed odd, she recalled, as it hadn't really been wet.)_  
  
“We are not betrothed to patricians of the South or anywhere else yet,” Desna remarked, the two of them sitting on the roof at the back of the palace where nobody would find them until they wanted to come out and be seen. A small, roomy alcove behind some stone statues of Tui and La that they used since they were very small and sometimes couldn't handle their father yelling at them for doing something wrong during their studies or royal children that made fun of they were they... well, basically, the way they were in the past and the present, “It wouldn't hurt to at least get some amusement out of anything that could happen from this.”  
  
Eska continued to chew on the little pomegranate she'd been working on for the last half an hour, the same way Desna continued biting and sucking on the kiwi in his palm—both of the tropical fruits filched from the kitchens by the girl when none of the maids or cooks had been looking.  
  
 _(The second time this mysterious person passed by their lives, it had been in the middle of the night with alarms going off inside the palace. Guards and soldiers had been buzzing around yelling about danger and intruders and to get the royal family to a safe place._  
  
 _Eska had been knocked unconscious when the guards had found her in the twins' shared quarters, evidence of a struggle everywhere in broken mirrors, jewelry tossed to the floor and crushed underfoot, small streaks of blood leading to the window and the obvious absence of Desna._  
  
 _Honestly, the young man hadn't been able to recall much after that because he had been trying to keep three rather-quite-a-bit-larger men away from his sister and had his head bounced off the floor before they'd decided that one was enough and bolted; tossing him over the biggest thug's shoulder and hauling tail to the boats they'd docked at a small river that flowed near the palace and into the open ocean. What he could remember, however, involved the strange smell of earth and fire boiling together and screaming from the kidnappers and his bruises being brushed and throttled as the earth—what little there was around the palace and the city that was mostly used for gardening in the warm seasons and was hardly pleasant as a lot of it was covered and fertilized with bird droppings from over thousands of years prior—turned and waved like the sea. Pillars had risen and slammed into all of the men, either knocking them out cold or injuring them enough that it was impossible to get up again._  
  
 _Desna felt soft arms, muscled, but not cruel and not looking to harm him, lifting him up like he weighed little more than a feather and tiny little paws resting on his chest and tickling his nose._  
  
 _“...You're gonna be just fine... 'S'okay...”_  
  
 _Father had been there the next morning in the infirmary, saying something about an Earthbender and political assassination and how disappointing it was that Desna hadn't been able to get away on his own. But Desna had only really absorbed the little detail about an Earthbender in the North before he'd been overcome by nausea and promptly vomited on the floor less than two feet from Father's boots; the taste of bird droppings still clinging to his nose above the putrid stomach acids that splattered the floor.)_  
  
“Perhaps,” Eska finally spoke up again after ten straight minutes of silence.

* * *

  
  
They couldn't find him in the fish stalls. _(Forty-seven fishermen bringing in carps and salmon, golden scales aligned with green absinth hues; it was amazing when Desna saw the stronger looking man separate one kind from another without cutting open his fingers on the blade tipped scales that kept the prettier fish from being eaten by predators.)_  
  
They couldn't find him in the town square. _(Four tiny children, none older than twelve, laughed loud and irritating to the twins as they made their way with their father to the housing offices of the more important records in the territories. The smaller ones were holding on to tightly muscled arms, swinging back and forth with rocking motions before being lifted clean into the air—up and up to ten feet—and then falling back to safety; a much softer laugh than they imagined echoing with the impact of each child on a broad chest.)_  
  
They couldn't find him at the fruit sellers. _(Balloons, bigger than Eska's head or smaller than her clenched fists, and each a different red color that flashed bright and almost frightening in contrast to the white snow, the blue flags lolling in the winter cold, the average commoners walking about in earth tones—they all obscured her view as a he walked across the streets. One balloon for every child that was minding their family kiwi, or apple or papaya stalls. He passed her by twice as she was buying dried grapes and raisins for her brother and herself and she only noticed he'd given her two balloons—eastern sky and magenta colors—when she'd turned to find him disappearing to the next street over and found the strings around her wrist.)_  
  
Nor the sacred temples. _(He only saw it once and he promised that he would talk to the other man as soon as he got the chance, if only because standing under the only torch lamp among statues bent in respect and suffering in everlasting penance, Desna thought that he'd never seen another soul look so somber or heartbreaking. He'd almost said something then, but the wind rushed up and down, drifting into the fresh powdered snow and breaching it all up to obscure his vision. When he'd blinked his eyes clear, Desna found himself alone among stone carvings, footprints leading away.)_  
  
Or between the streets in every alley they could find. _(They were lost, again. But that didn't make sense since the entire city was supposed to be at their disposal and obliged to simply be there when they turned around to find a shop or a temple or something. They had just crossed over from one street into an alley when they'd seen a familiar figure carrying groceries—he must have lived near there or he would not have carried so much; both were certain and silent as they cast a glance at each other and then let the dark of the in-between of buildings—and let themselves, for something like the tenth time in their lives, be spontaneous... Which meant it took them an hour to find their way out of the maze of little homes and businesses they hadn't known to even exist. A little chalk arrow was their savior, actually; fresh and printed on a three story home, a candy shop, a place to buy padded boots at reasonable prices and then the back of the building they knew as an herb shop that sold almost exclusively to Unalaq and the royal healers.)_  
  
After they both ran out of ideas for where he might be, it occurred to the both of them that this was probably the first thing they both wanted that they'd actually worked harder to get more than anything in their lives and yet it seemed to be a quest of futility.  
  
The sun was setting and they were tired and actually sweaty from climbing in and out among places that they'd never made an effort in before, but they were not giving up just yet.  
  
Both sat on the steps to the sparring arena, where nobles and their guards trained for their own enjoyment or at the behest of their families to better themselves should they ever face true combat. Eska had one shoe pulled off to pull out little pebbles that had been knocking against her heel and toes for the last hour and Desna was glaring at some swelling and bruising along his left wrist that had been forming since they'd scouted the alleys and a tavern keeper tossed out two drunks that thought both twins were female and had tried to make advances—much to their own regret when Desna decided he was not in the mood.  
  
Sounds from inside clustered like wind out to them and their dark strands of hair floated up or stood on end when a loud cheering hit their ears, jolting them and both turned to glare inside--  
  
Warm coffee in two mugs _(one was a dark purple that matched the bruising on Desna's wrist, the other was a dark silver that almost matched Eska's hair beads; both were comically large)_ were held out to them. Each had a plate holder to keep them steady, but also to allow the little chocolate and vanilla biscuits they came with not to fall to the ground.  
  
Bright green eyes shined, pleasing, above a sweet, large smile and humming escaped slightly chapped lips in greeting, “It's cold out here, your majesties. Perhaps you'd appreciate a little warm up?”  
  
Blink. Blink. Twitch.  
  
They really had no idea what they had planned to say, but the handsome stranger obliged for them in breaking the metaphorical ice.  
  
“My name's Bolin, by the way. I don't think we've been properly introduced yet.”  
  
“...Ah.” They both echoed, blushing as they took the food and drink offered from him, Eska shoving her foot back in her shoe as fast as she could to hide her (what she felt) ugly toes; Desna dropped his hand to the stairs first as well, his robe riding back down to cover the blemishes on his wrist.  
  
He didn't seem to react to their not being quite as prepared to speak up as they would have liked. He just smiled wider when they each almost burnt their tongues on the coffee and he caught their biscuits when their being startled knocked the food from their dishes.


End file.
